To Kill or Be Killed
by EllieCDMX
Summary: This story is different to other fanfictions, as my OC meets the club in a negative way. Ellie must deal with her emotions and try to survive as Jax and his club destroy her life, and could possibly end it if she doesn't do something, and do it soon.
1. Chapter 1

**This story puts a spin on the usual fanfictions. In this story my OC meets the club and its members in a negative way.**

**I hope you like it :) **

* * *

Almost a year ago, my older brother Zander decided to prospect of the Sons of Anarchy MC. Not even six months after that he was shot dead by an enemy of the club. It wasn't his fault. He wasn't even involved in all that stuff yet, he was just a prospect. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or at least that is how Jackson Teller explained it to my dad. He said that Zander was just finishing up at the Teller-Morrow auto garage when these people drove past and fired at the club house and Zander was caught in the fire. I never believed him, I thought there was more to the story, but I think dad believed him, although I wouldn't really know because dad stopped talking after Zander's death.

I hated the MC, but I kept my mouth shut because Zander loved it. I refused to meet any of the members, although I had seen them all around town and knew most of their names, as we live in a fairly small town. When Zander died I didn't even go to the funeral. They gave him a funeral for a proper member; he even got a black coffin with the Sons of Anarchy reaper on it. I didn't go to the funeral because that isn't how I wanted to remember my brother. Joining the Sons was the worst mistake my brother ever made, and I wanted to remember the good times, not the bad. I wanted to forget about the club and think about all the things we used to do together as kids, like throw water balloons at the kids down the street, or play pranks on each other, or the time Zander got a broken arm and collar bone because he was protecting me from a bully. I wanted to remember the beautiful boy I knew as a kid, not the stupid idiot he was for joining the Sons.

I thought I could forget it, and I almost had, until a month ago when my dad decided the best way to deal with his grief would be to take his own life. I went to his funeral with all intent to stay, but I left when I saw Jackson Teller. He was the reason my dad was dead and had no right to attend his funeral. Seeing him there made me want to puke, or punch him in the face, or both. I left before he noticed me.

I have spent the last month trying to live by myself and make ends meet while still at high school and only with a part time job. I had to move twice to avoid the social workers, as they want to put me in foster care because I am only 17, but I don't want to, so I keep moving to the cheapest places I can find to avoid them.

I'm not coping very well, and the only thing I can think clearly about is how much I want Jackson Teller and his stupid little club to pay for what they did to my family. I had a normal happy life before they ruined it by killing my brother and my father, and they continue to live their lives like nothing happened whilst I am going through hell trying to survive.

I worked out a plan to hurt them, to make them pay for what they did. I am going to wait in hiding at the auto garage until they turn up on their bikes, and then I will go cut Jackson Teller's bikes fuel line and let the fuel spill everywhere. I will run a line of fuel back to my hiding spot, which will be near the exit gate, and when I see them come out and go back to their bikes I will light a match and light the fuel. It won't kill them, but it will most likely injure them, and it will definitely make me feel better.

I won't get caught either, because nobody will see me. They might blame someone else, but once I've finished school and moved away from Charming I will let them know who did it and why. They will have scars for the rest of their lives, as I will have emotional scars for the rest of my life. They will have a constant reminder of what they did and will have to think back to their horrible actions that caused them every time they look in the mirror in the morning.

* * *

It was a Saturday night and I was sitting in my small motel room when I heard a knock at the door. I open the door to find my best friend, Brandon standing there with pizza.

I smile at him, "You're the best." I say as I give him a hug and invite him in.

We sit on the couch and eat the pizza in silence. He knew about my plan and he really didn't like it. He was always trying to talk me out of it, but I wasn't going to change my mind. He looks over at my kitchen bench and notices a box of matches and a knife.

He sighs. "What's the knife for?" He asks. He doesn't bother to mention the matches, because he knows exactly what they are for.

"In case something goes wrong." I explain. "I need to protect myself."

"Do you really think you will be able to stab someone?" He asks, sounding concerned.

"Yes." I reply. "I won't need to if my plan goes right."

He sighs loudly again. "This is the stupidest idea you have ever had. Have you thought about what will happen afterwards? Or what will happen if they catch you? They'll kill you! And if they don't catch you, the cops will send you to jail for attempted murder or something, and then when you are released they will kill you! You can't mess with them like this."

"I won't get caught." I say flatly.

He looks down at his feet. "When are you going to do it?"

"Well." I look over at the knife and matches. "The whole club is expected to be at the club house tonight for some meeting… so…"

"Tonight!" He exclaims loudly whilst standing up. "Seriously? You're going to blow them up tonight?"

"I'm not going to blow them up." I explain. "And tonight is the best night to do it."

He sits back down on the couch after a few moments of silence. "At least let me go with you." He asks softly.

"No way!" I yell. "You're my best friend. I can't let anything to happen to you."

He sighs again. "Well, I can't let anything happen to you." He argues.

I sigh. Brandon isn't the sort of guy to back down easily, and it might be useful to have another set of eyes. "Ok."

His head moves back slightly in shock. "Ok?"

"It will be better to have another set of eyes, but I'm still doing everything." I say.

Brandon quickly nods his head with a smile. He leans back on the couch and his smile slowly fades. His eyes are filled with his worries and concerns, but he tries to hide them from me.

* * *

We walk down the street slowly. The knife is clipped to the waste of my jeans, and the matches are in my pocket. The wind is cold, and the beanie on my head isn't doing much, so I pull the hood of my jumper over my head as well and put my hands in my jumper pockets. Brandon is walking along watching his shoes with his hands in his jean pockets. He is wearing a light blue jumper that compliments his blue eyes. His dark hair is blowing in the wind.

"Why do you not like this guy so much?" He asks.

"I hate him." I correct him angrily.

"Hate is a strong word." He says, concerned.

I look down at my shoes. "Hate is the only emotion that makes sense to me at the moment." I admit.

He puts an arm around me and kisses the top of my head. We walk the rest of the way to the Sons of Anarchy club house in silence.

I smiled to myself. Brandon has always been there for me, even as a kid. He is two years older than me and a year older than Zander, so the three of us were all best buddies as kids. As we grew up Zander grew apart from us, but Brandon and I stayed good friends. I never thought of him in a romantic way, but I'm not sure why, we would probably make a perfect couple.

We arrived at the club house just after midnight. I could hear a party or something going on inside, and there were four times as many bikes as their normally is parked inside the gate.

"I thought you said it was only a meeting." Said Brandon hesitantly.

"I thought it was." I admitted. I only ever got little bits of information from people, as I didn't want to make anyone suspicious, so it is understandable I didn't get all the information I needed.

"We should go." Brandon said, as he stopped walking. "We can come back another night."

"No." I looked at him. Fear filled his eyes. "Let's just wait it out and see what happens." Maybe the others would leave and Jackson Teller and the rest of SAMCRO would stay.

I peered through the gate, holding Brandon's hand behind me. There was nobody outside.

I turned to Brandon. "There isn't anyone out there. We just need to make it to the other side so we can hide behind the auto garage. We'll get a better view of everything from there."

Brandon nodded.

We crouched down low and snuck through the gate and followed the edge of the building. When we got to the corner we peered around and looked at the closed door of the club house.

"Ok." I whispered. "We run on three." I kept watch of the door as I counted. The noise inside was still really loud. "One." I gulped. There was no turning back now. "Two." I got ready to sprint to the other side. I held onto Brandon's hand tighter. "Three!"

We sprinted across the open ground to the back of the garage. He jumped behind the building. There was only a small gap between the garage and the fence, but it was enough for us. There was no lights over here, so nobody from the club house could see us if they walked out the front door, but we could see them.

Brandon put a hand on his heart. "Shit." He whispered. He looked back around the corner of the building at the club house door, which was still shut. "I think I almost had a heart attack."

I smiled at him, and a laugh escaped me. "Same." I could feel my heart trying to beat out of my chest. We both sat down and waited for the others to leave the club house.

* * *

It was almost two hours before something happened. I heard the front door of the club house open and a few men came out. They were singing loudly and stumbling towards the bikes, obviously intoxicated. They got on and left as more men came out the front door. It took a while before all the men had left on their bikes.

I looked around the corner again to see Jackson Teller, the man responsible for my brothers and fathers deaths, Happy and Opie standing outside having a smoke. They were talking quietly and laughing with each other. Jax dropped his cigarette on the ground, stepped on it, then patted Opie on the back and they all went back inside.

I looked at Brandon, who was shaking with fear. I put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Now." I whispered. He nodded his head, and gulped. I took out my knife. "You stay here." I instructed him.

I crouched low and made my way to the remaining bikes, keeping an eye on the door the whole time. I got to the bikes and hid behind them. I searched through the line for Jackson's bike, but I soon realised I had no idea which bike was his. They all looked the same close up. I looked back at Brandon, who was looking at me concerned.

I turned my attention back to the bikes. I looked at the closest bike to me, and then realised that I probably couldn't pierce the fuel tank with my knife either. Sweat started to collect on my forehead, so I pulled my beanie down further to wipe it off. I quickly decided to cut anything that I could that was exposed on the bikes. I chopped through about five bikes before I heard the front door of the club house squeak open. I crouched down behind the bikes even further. I could feel my heart jump into my throat.

The door opened wider to reveal Happy stepping outside. He looked around and was about to light a cigarette when the door opened again. This time Jax appeared at the door. He motioned for Happy to go back inside, so he put his lighter and cigarette back in his pocket and followed Jax back inside.

I sighed a sigh of relief and held my chest as my heart beat began to slow down again. I quickly ran back to Brandon after checking the door one more time.

He looked terrified. "Holy shit!" He whispered. "What happened?"

"I couldn't get through the fuel tanks, so I just cut some shit." I said through heavy breaths that wee brought on by the fear.

"What shit?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know." I admitted. "I just cut whatever I could on the bikes."

"Fuck." Sighed Brandon, as he leaned back on the fence. "Now what?"

I looked around. I had absolutely no idea what to do next. "Wait here." I instructed him.

"Where are you going?" He asked, concerned.

"Just down that way." I whispered, pointing down the narrow gap between the fence and the garage. There was long grass growing through the fence, so I couldn't really see what was down there, and there might be something that could give me an idea.

I quietly made my way through the narrow gap. Halfway down I almost tripped on a few boxes. I looked down at them. There was one box filled with old rags, one box with pieces of metal from something, I'm not sure what, and then next to them was an old tin of some sort. I picked up the tin. It was heavy and filled with some kind of liquid. I opened the lid and lightly sniffed the liquid inside. A smile spread across my face as I recognised the smell. I quickly made my way back to Brandon, who was waiting anxiously.

I showed him the tin, smiling. He frowns. "What is it?" He asks.

I move the container to try read the label. Just as I had suspected, it was wood lacquer. I smile at Brandon. "Wood lacquer." I explain. "Dad used to come home stinking of it after work."

Brandon looked confused. "So?"

"It's flammable."

Brandon's look of confusion changes back to one of fear. "Oh." He says. "What is it doing behind here?"

"I have no idea, but it works. I'll just pour this over near the bikes and run a trail back to here and when they come out we can light it up." I smile at Brandon, but he does not return the smile.

He says nothing as I sneak back out into the open towards the bikes with the tin. I crouch behind the bikes and watch the door nervously. I fiddle with the lid, but it won't budge, probably because the tin is starting to rust. I grab my knife and stab a hole in the top. I flinch at the noise it makes, but there is no sound coming from the club house, so I assume nobody heard it. I pour out the liquid under most of the bikes and walk backwards with it to make a trail back to our hiding spot.

I put the tin back where I found it so it isn't near us when I light up the stuff on the floor. I crouch low and pull out my box of matches. I take one match out and get ready.

About an hour later there is still no activity coming from the club house, so I sit back with Brandon, who is leaning on the fence. I sigh. "This is taking forever." I complain.

"Hmm." Replies Brandon. He is looking up at the night sky. I join him stargazing.

I smile. "Those stars look like a bat." I say, pointing to a cluster of stars with the match that is still in my hand.

Brandon laughs. "Yeah. And those ones look like a wobbly whale." He points to the sky.

I try to look at where he is pointing. "I can't see that." He laughs and smiles for the first time tonight. His smile is quickly wiped off his face as we hear a sound coming from around the corner. We both move to look around the corner. Brandon is behind me, and his hand is on my shoulder.

I lean forward when suddenly Brandon's hand is pulled off my shoulder and I hear a muffled scream from behind me. I whip around to find Brandon being held by a very angry looking Happy. His hand is over Brandon's mouth, and his other hand is holding a gun, which he is pointing at me.

I hear something behind me, and turn around again to find an even angrier Jax coming towards me. I step back, but Happy's gun pushes into my back. Jax grabs the front of my jumper and pulls me to him, and then pushes me against the fence, holding me there with his arm pressed against my throat.

A wicked grin crosses his face. "Well, what do we have here?"

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**I hope you like the first chapter!**

**I would appreciate any reviews and suggestions, and I will post the next chapter once I have finished writing it.**

**Thanks**

**CDMX **


	2. Chapter 2

**I had forgotten to mention this before, but this story doesn't really follow the series, as my story is set in a time where Jax is president, Opie is vice president, and Happy is Sergeant at Arms. **

**I hope you like this chapter. Please leave suggestions/comments in the reviews.**

**thanks **

**CDMX**

* * *

Jax's eyes were filled with anger and his lips were curled up in a nasty snarl. His eyes flicked to the liquid on the ground, then back up at me. He didn't say anything, just pushed his arm against my throat more.

He turned his head to the group of men behind him. "Close the gate." He ordered, and Juice quickly ran off to close and lock my only escape route.

I held his arm pressing against my throat, attempting to loosen his grip, but he was much stronger than I was, and he only pressed harder. I looked over at Brandon, who looked to be on the verge of bawling his eyes out in the arms of Happy. He was terrified. I was scared too, but I was trying to compose myself and think of how to get away.

Jax looks over at Happy and Brandon. "Let's take this inside." He says, and Happy starts dragging Brandon past us. Brandon starts to struggle, but Happy smacks him in the gut with his gun. Brandon curls over in pain and Happy quickly drags him into the club house.

I look at Jax. He still hasn't moved, and the pressure on my throat is worse than before. He takes his free hand and pushes my hood off my head, and then pulls my beanie off. My hair falls into my face, and Jax's face suddenly changes. The pressure on my throat releases slightly and I take a gasp of air. He turns to Opie and Tig, who are still waiting behind him. "It's a girl." He says, sounding perplexed.

As Jax is distracted, I quickly push his chest. He stumbles back just enough for me to duck around him and run. "Hey!" He yells as he reaches to grab me, but misses. I dodge past the other two men, who also reach out to grab me. I make towards the gate, which is closed and locked, but I have no other way out. I hear their footsteps following behind me quickly. I gasp for air, as I am still recovering from having my throat squashed by Jax's arm.

I make it about ten more steps before I feel someone's arms around my waist. They pull me back with such force that I am thrown on top of them as they fall backwards. I grab at their hands, trying to free myself, but they roll over with ease so my face is now planted firmly on the ground and their whole body weight is crushing me to the floor. I let out a groan and try to get up, but they are too heavy. I manage to turn my head sideways so I can see the two other men, Tig and Jax, which means Opie is currently lying on me. No wonder I can't move under his weight.

Jax kneels down by my head. He smiles and says, "Fuck, you're a little brat, aren't ya." He stands up again and motions for Opie to get up. Opie gets up and pulls me up with him, holding onto my upper arms so firmly that I am sure it will bruise later.

They start to walk towards the club house, pushing me along. I try to stop moving by pushing my feet into the ground. It works for only a moment, as Opie just grabs my waist and lifts me up higher so my feet can no longer touch the ground.

I scream angrily and kick the air in front of me. I try to hold myself back by pushing on either side of the door frame with my feet. Tig sighs and punches the side of my left knee cap. I scream in pain and my leg falls off the door frame. They quickly get me inside and close the door.

The air inside smells terrible, like cigarettes, vomit and booze, and the low lighting makes the place seem dank. Brandon is lying on the floor in the middle of the room cluttered with tables, chairs, lounges, a bar and a pool table. He looks like he has been crying and there is blood coming from his nose and mouth. He is groaning in pain and hardly moving.

Opie drops me on the nearest lounge. I fall onto it and Opie pushes me down so I am lying down. My knee is throbbing in pain, and as I try to move the pain rips through me and I scream, tears forming in my eyes. I gulp back the lump in my throat as I am pushed back down.

There is an air of hostility in the room and everyone is on edge. Jax turns to Brandon, who is lying on the floor. "You better start fuckin' explaining what the fuck you were doing out there!" He yells at Brandon, who is unable to respond. Jax kicks Brandon in the gut, and Brandon curls over more and lets out a pained wheeze.

"No!" I scream, and reach out to Brandon, which causes me to fall off the lounge. I hold in another scream of pain as my knee objects to the movement. Opie is quick to pick me up by the shoulders and put me back on the lounge, this time in a sitting position. I look at Jax. "No." I repeat, softer than before.

Jax takes a few steps towards me. "Do you wanna start talking, girl?" He asks, anger and purpose filling his voice.

I gulp. I look at Brandon, and then back at Jax. "It… it.. uh…it." I stamper. "It isn't his fault." I manage to say under the intense glare of everyone in the room.

"And why the fuck not?" Demands Jax.

Opie leans over me, a menacing expression on his face. I gulp again, trying to get rid of my fear, which is causing my whole body to tremble. "It's not his fault." I say again.

"So you tried to kill us?" Tig asks, his eyes sparkling with evil thoughts.

"I… uh… No." I stamper.

Tig raises his voice. "So _he _tried to kill us?" He yelled, pointing at the broken Brandon.

"No!" I try to stand up in defiance, but my knee gives way, and I fall onto Opie, who catches me easily, as if I weigh no more than a feather. He pushes me back down. I hold in my scream and try to ignore the intense pain coming from my leg.

Jax stalks over to me, and leans into my face, "Someone needs to start explaining, and now." He says, his voice calm, but filled with hidden emotions.

I try to look away from him, but he grabs my jaw and moves my head back to face him. "Now." He repeats, the anger in his voice a bit more obvious. "Or you aren't walking out of here alive."

I gulp again, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. I didn't want to cry anymore, and I had to be strong for myself and for Brandon, who was making strained gargling noises on the floor.

"I wasn't trying to kill you." I say steadily. I was surprised my voice was so steady, but I kept my composure and stared into Jax's eyes.

"It fuckin' looked like you were!" Yelled Tig, moving closer to me.

I flinched, but Jax stood up straight and put his hand out towards Tig. "Shut. Up." He said, emphasising each word. Tig stopped moving. Jax leaned back over me, with his hand resting on the wall above my head. "Keep talking." He instructed.

"I…I…I just…" I looked away from Jax, but he turned my head again to face him and nodded his head to tell me to keep talking.

"I just wanted to hurt you." I admitted. Jax's eyes changed slightly, but I couldn't read the emotion in them.

"Why?" He asked.

I looked away again, but Jax moved my head to face him again, but more forcefully this time. "Why." He repeated, a bit louder than last time.

I didn't want to tell him the real reason, so I stayed silent. Jax slammed his hand against the wall above my head, which made me flinch again. "Answer me!" He yelled, "WHY!"

I took a few quick breaths as my heart raced. "Because you killed my brother!" I yelled as I pushed him back and stood up in anger. "You killed my brother!" I yelled again. "And my Dad." I looked down at Brandon. "And probably my best friend too!" I turned my head and tried to stop the tears in my eyes from escaping.

Jax stood there for a moment, frozen by what I had said. His hard expression softened a little bit and he wiped his hand along his blonde beard.

"So you wanted to kill me?" He asked softly, "For killing your family."

"No" I mumbled. "I didn't want to kill you. Just hurt you." I looked at him. He seemed conflicted.

Happy scoffed. "You know blowing people up usually kills them." He says, in his low gruff voice.

"I wasn't going to blow you up." I tried to explain. "Just hurt you."

"Why?" Asks Jax again.

I look around the room. The hatred I felt for these men was immense, and I would have liked nothing more than to punch my way out of the room, but I knew I would never get out if I tried that, so I tried to explain myself instead.

"So you had scars." I started. "For the rest of your lives. So you would wake up every morning and have to remember what you did."

"If you had managed to pull it off, we would have killed you for it." Says Opie, who is standing over Brandon's almost lifeless body.

Happy scoffs again. "Who says we aren't gonna kill them anyway." He says. "That's what you get if you try kill a Son."

"I didn't try to kill you!" I yelled at Happy. I was met with a hard, cold stare by the man.

Jax steps forward and places a hand on my shoulder. He pushes me back onto the lounge, which makes me flinch as my knee reminds me that it still hurts and I had just stood up on it. He kneels down in front of me. His whole demeanour had changed and he seemed almost sympathetic now.

"What's your name?" He asks.

I look at him, and then look away. I didn't want to tell the guy my name. He could probably find anything out about me if I told him my name. I looked over at Brandon, who had managed to almost regain his consciousness. He was groaning and moving a bit more than before. I wonder what they did to him before I entered the room, but I quickly look away as I don't want to think about it.

Jax slaps me softly on the cheek to get my attention. "Name." He repeats, with less kindness in his voice.

"Jasmine." I say.

Jax sighs. "You're lying."

"Miranda."

"Still lying."

"Emma."

"No."

"Georgia."

"No."

"Fred…"

A small smile flicks across Jax's face, but it disappears so quickly I question whether it even existed. "Your name." He says, the hard expression returning to his face.

I gulp again. "Ellie." I say. "Ellie Wolfe."

Jax's expression changes again as he places all the pieces together. He steps back. "Zander's sister?" He asks.

I nod my head. I look down, trying to get rid of the tears that were developing in my eyes again. I hated hearing Zander's name coming out of the mouth of the man who was responsible for his death.

"I'm sorry." He says after a long pause.

His words anger me. He is sorry? Oh really! Is that because his actions have come back to bite him in the ass. Is he sorry that he killed my brother, or is he sorry that he got caught out and called a murderer? I look up at him, anger filling me. "Fuck you!" I yell. "Fuck you!"

He frowns at me, unsure of where my anger came from, as I was just crying two seconds ago.

I stand up, ignoring the pain in my knee. "Fuck you!" I yell again. "Fuck you and your stupid fucking club! Saying sorry won't bring him back! Nothing will bring him back!" I take a breath. The tears start to drip from my eyes. "You killed him! It's your fault!" I scream. "You killed him!" The tears start to take over and I start shaking as the tears now flow from my eyes. I start to fall as the crying makes my legs weak. Jax quickly steps forward to catch me. He pulls me close and holds me up, as my legs can no longer hold my body weight.

I lean into him and rest my head on his chest and let his shirt soak up my tears. I try to get the energy to fight him off, but my body has given way, and his hug feels nice. Nobody has hugged me since Zander died, and Jax's warmth and beating heart against my cheek is comforting.

After a minute, Jax gently pushes me back onto the lounge. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my jumper, and sniff up the snot filling my nose.

He sighs and turns away from me. He must have made a face at Opie, as Opie shrugs at him and Happy and Tig seem angrier at him.

"Church." Jax says. "Now." He walks towards another room, which has a large table surrounded by chairs. He turns to Juice. "You and the prospects stay with them." Juice nods. "And don't let them go anywhere." He adds.

Jax and the rest of the men went into the other room. They closed the door behind them. I could hear them arguing, but I couldn't quite make out what they were saying. I looked over at Brandon, who still hadn't gotten off the floor. I started to stand up so I could go and check him, but Juice was quick to push me back onto the lounge, and with more force than I thought was necessary.

"Don't." He says, pointing his index finger at me.

"I just wanted to check on Brandon." I say, and look back over at Brandon. He has to have a concussion at least, and probably a few broken bones.

Juice doesn't answer and just stares coldly at me.

"Jeez, ok then." I say, and lift my legs up onto the lounge to try be more comfortable in this horribly uncomfortable situation I had gotten myself into. How could I be so stupid and get caught like I did? I think over what had happened before I got caught and realised even if I had lit it up, I still probably would have got caught, because I was nowhere near the exit, like I had originally planned to be. Well, I guess nothing ever really goes to plan, and my life is a pretty good example of that. I hadn't planned for my brother to be murdered by a bunch of bikies, or have my dad die, or end up trying to hurt them, and I definitely didn't plan on getting caught and have my best friend get hurt because of me.

I sigh to myself and look back over to the door. I couldn't hear them arguing anymore, but they still hadn't come out and it had been about fifteen minutes now.

About five minutes later they all came out of the room. Tig and Happy looked really pissed, but the others didn't seem as on edge as those two. Jax looked at Brandon and shook his head, then came over to me.

"We've come to a decision." He says calmly. "You're going to leave."

I sit back up. "Leave?"

"Leave Charming." He corrects.

"What?" I stand up to face him. "I can't leave Charming. My whole life is here."

"Well, the way you describe it, we killed your 'whole life' and now you have nothing left than to try get revenge." Jax says, his voice starting to rise. "So you are going to leave Charming and _never _come back, and if I see you here again, I won't be so forgiving. Do you understand me?"

I nod. I guess that is my only choice; leave charming or get myself killed. I look over at Brandon again. "What about Brandon?" I ask.

Jax's eyes flick over to Brandon, and then back to me. "We will help you take him back to your house, then you will leave town with him."

I sigh and look down at the floor. _Fuck. _I think. I nod my head in understanding, but keep looking at the floor. Jax pushes my chin up with the back of his fingers and looks into my eyes. His mouth twitches slightly and he sighs. He lets go of my chin and walks over to help Happy with Brandon.

Jax looks over at Opie. "Take her out to the van." He instructs. Opie is quick to put a supportive, but firm hand on my shoulder and start leading me back outside.

He leans into my ear and whispers, "None of that nonsense." He says, reminding me of how he got me into the club house. "Or you'll regret it." He adds.

I turn around to look at Brandon being supported by Happy and Jax. His eyes are fluttering open, and I can see the concern in his eyes. He has been so out of it, he probably has no idea what is going on, but then I see the emotion in his eyes quickly change. Opie tries to lightly push me forward with the hand that is on my shoulder, but I resist him.

My stomach drops as I see Brandon's eyes quickly flick to Happy, filled with this new emotion that looks foreign in his innocent eyes.

"BRAN! NO!" I scream, but it is too late. Brandon lunges on Happy, putting his full weight onto Happy's neck. Jax is quick to respond and tries to pull Brandon off, but Happy has already taken his knife from his belt. He pushes it into Brandon's side with ease. I scream again as Happy pulls out the knife. Brandon gasps and Jax is able to pull him off Happy.

Jax is holding up Brandon, but the anger in Happy'e eyes shows exactly what is going to happen next. He pushes the blade into Brandon's belly as easily as a normal person would cut soft cheese. He pulls it out and pushes the knife back into Brandon's belly one more time, and pulls it out with a twist. Brandon tries to gasp, but instead makes a gurgling sound as a small amount of blood dribbles from his mouth.

I pull free from Opie and run to Brandon as Jax lowers him onto the floor. This time nobody tries to stop me, and I kneel beside Brandon.

"Brandon?" I say as I grab him, unable to hold back the tears that are flooding my eyes.

He looks into my eyes. His eyes are filled with pain, but a small sparkle appears when he looks at me. He tries to breathe in, but only manages a faint gurgle. I look into his eyes and watch as the sparkle slowly fades and his eyes become blank and emotionless.


End file.
